A Most Painful Crush
by Kolobusamy
Summary: Hermione has an accident in Potion's class with surprising result, has not been done this way
1. Default Chapter

_Disclaimer: All recognizable people, places, and things belong to JK Rowling_.

A Most Painful Crush

By Amanda Sue Crabtree

(aka Kolobusamy)

RATING: This one is meant only for adults. If you are a kid: read something else! 

AUTOR'S NOTES: forgive my spelling; I was in a hurry to post this. It's finals week and I don't have a lot of time.

SUMMARY: Hermione has an accident in Potion's class with surprising results. (Hint: if you have read anything of mine before you should know this will not be Hogwarts as you may know it)

CHARACTERS (I thought this would come in handy since I'm adding new teachers and students, but not all characters are listed. Some of the small, one-time-appearing characters don't get their bios posted):

Hermione Granger: Mother died when she was eleven years old, lived at Hogwarts since then as it's ward for the past five years. Bossy sort, with no patience for bullies. Loves to gossip. Has long curly hair, big beautiful eyes, and a smile that made a certain grumpy Professor fall for her.

Ann Frey: Hermione's best friend with a submissive personality. Red curly hair and berry blue eyes. Has a crush on Drederik Terlak, but doesn't want to lose Hermione's friendship so won't act on it. 

Drederik Terlak: Head Boy for Slytherin. Hermione's worst enemy, blames her for Ann's inability to stand up for herself. His father sits is the head of the school board and is one of Professor Snape's best friends. Black, lanky hair and gray eyes, looks like he could play the part of a young Count Dracula.    

Headmaster Birchwood:  The sweet and lovable old man who's headmaster of Hogwarts, doesn't really make waves, he just wants everyone to be happy. Fat, old and gray, resembles Santa Clause.     

Professor Rowe: Head of House for the girls' dormitory. Cold and uncaring woman, believes that girls have their heads in the clouds too much, teaches Arithmacy.  Cold gray hair, cold brown eyes, about 98 years old. Whiskers that come out of moles, never been married.

Professor Crates: Head of House for Hupplepuff. Big funny man who teaches flying (boys only) and Herbology. Seven feet tall, or seems that tall, jolly brown beard, brown eyes, brown hair, looks like he never had a bad day in his life. Always smiling.

Professor Snape: Head of House for Slytherin. Creator of five of the deadliest potions known to man. His family is one of the wealthiest in Great Britain. With the sell of his first book: Potions: Advances and Revisions (required reading to pass his class), he bought 30% of Hogwarts (He now owns the entire southeast tower, where he resides) but declined to sit on the school board. Said it would take up too much of his time. Pays a small fortune each year in potion ingredients so everyone can take his class (The first year he taught Potions, over half the school wasn't taking his class, and he wouldn't stand for it. Now, no one has an excuse not to attend his class and better themselves.) Underneath his hard mean shell, he is very lonely. Tall, thin and lethally muscled. Black hair to his waist that is always pulled back with a black ribbon. Sharp thin face, razor sharp black eyes, demonic grin. Rubs his thin elegant hand together when tormenting someone or in anticipation of the ways to torment someone.  

Professor Throckmorton: Head of House for Ravenclaw. Argumentative sort of fellow, no one's right but him. Teaches Charms, Divinity, and Defense Against the Dark Arts along with his alter ego (his split personality, very funny fellow named Henry). Blond hair, suspicious hazel eyes, really big nose.

Professor Ulysses: Head of House for Griffendor. Teaches Muggles studies and History of Magic. In one word: Hero. (He even wears a cape!) Black hair, dashing blue eyes, dimple in chin. In one word: Handsome.

SETTING: A Victorian type of time period. Women wear floor length gowns, Men those old-fashion pants and shirts with robes or cloaks over them. Women have no rights. They are cattle, just like it really was in Victorian times. Women were married off at fifteen sometimes, and that was legal then and it is legal in this story. 

DEFINATIONS (meanings that only exist in this story):

Privacy papers—legal document stating if a school can discipline the female student the papers belong to. Outdated custom that only comes into play when a female is turned over to a school or the state.

Decision papers—legal document all females have that states who has control of them. (ex. Father, husband, or other.) Gives them the right to determine what happens to female. Used all the time, women rarely picks her own husband. 

Elective buy—females can buy back their decision papers after graduating from school and becoming employed. After fifty years is automatically put into place by the state. (ex. The state buys back the privacy papers for them, if they can't.)

Serfship—term of sentence one has to serve as serf to someone in payment of some misdeed or in repayment of a loan. (Applies only to women, men they thrown in jail.)    

WARNING: This story is going to have sex between a grown man and a sixteen year old in it!! I'll be blunt, if you are a kid or someone who doesn't' wish to read this, don't! It is meant for the entertainment of adults and isn't really supposed to be taken seriously. 

A/n: Okay! Now on with the show…


	2. The evil Drederik Terlak

_Disclaimer: All recognizable people, places, and things belong to JK Rowling_. 

Part One: The Evil Drederik Terlak

After living at Hogwarts year-round for the past five years, Hermione Granger still can't get over the breath-stopping beautiful winters. Snow so thick and fluffy that, with a dash of sugar, would make a delicious dessert, trees with branches bowing, dressed in winter whites, as if to say, "After you, my lady," and iced lakes that wink at Hermione when the morning sun kisses them greets and delights Hermione each Saturday morning as she takes off to her once a week job as a saleslady for _Madam DuMont's Fine Establishment _in Hogsmeade.

Hermione had been told, whenever she mentioned getting a weekend job, that only fine ladies of good class can land one of the decent paying and comfortable jobs in the fine shops and establishments in Hogsmeade. She didn't heed those words, well meaning or not, Hermione was sure that if she could manage to make it on her on all these years, that talking her way into the job of her dreams was within reach. So, when she was thirteen, she put on her Best Dress, made her hair up in the most fashionable of styles, and marched into Hogsmeade with a permission-to-work slip form Headmaster Birchwood. 

She wasn't even allowed inside the stores.

Distraught, she cried all the way home. She never before felt as low as she did that day. The looks on those people's faces, like they could see dirt on her face and mud in her blood, Hermione remembered feeling like someone had roughly bottled up her hopes and dreams and performed a Dissolving charm on them. 

The very next day, however, Madam DuMont, owner of one of the finest stores in all of Europe, wrote Hogwarts and informed Headmaster Birchwood that she was in need of a saleslady and heard he had a young lady attending his school who was looking for work. And the rest is history, Hermione thought happily. Madam DuMont wasn't very warm to her at first, but when the madam saw how good a saleslady she was and how much she loved working at _Madam DuMont's Fine Establishment_, that changed too. Now Hermione is has her own counter and case register, and receives a nice fat purse for her work.   

Her rosy nose and cheeks gave the young girl a healthy appearance, while her pink, fluffy white fur trimmed hooded cloak and muff, darling black boots, and peeks of a thick brown woolen work dress making Hermione an easy place to rest tired eyes.

And rest on her delicate frame a pair of tired black eyes did, drinking up the sight of Hermione's young happy face enjoying the cold winter day. A look of pure need flashing across the black eyes, bottomless pools of wanting, of needing.

Hidden, the cloaked man followed the object of his passion, protecting her precious fragile body from slipping on the ice covered roads and from all who would dare attempt to harm his lady, as she merrily strolled down the well-trodden rode to Hogsmeade.

Hermione laughed as a merry little squirrel shimmed and scurried up a tree, a yummy brown nut firmly clutched in it minuscule jaws. 

"Ann would love to see you, Mr. Squirrel," Hermione laughed, pausing in her quick youthful step to watch the speedy little creature zip up it's tree.

The cloaked man paused, closing his eyes in rapture, the sound of her joyful melodious laughter flooding his senses like his favorite red wine, _Omardio_ _Demasit_. Just being close to her was enough to ease the emptiness that ate away at him. 

For Hermione, entering Hogsmeade is like being swept into a quaint village where all you need to do is dream it and there it is. Horse drawn carriages busily going this way and that, wreaths and sleigh bells hung from ornate street lamps. Doormen at every shop and delicious smells coming from all about invite passing ladies and gents to come inside and have a look at the goodies inside. 

Despite the glamour of the elegantly dressed ladies and top hated gents, the sweet smelling shops and delightful scenery, Hermione's favorite places of all of Hogsmeade can be found into the mysterious and dark alleyways. Stores that boast no names, wares that come with no instruction or explanations on how to use them, strange and mysterious places that tickle her imaginations.

Of course, she cannot step foot inside, for she is an unchaperoned female, but that doesn't stop her from pressing her nose against the glass and gazing about the darkly lit stores and breathe in the strange aromas and sights.

Hermione would love to go poking about those alleyways first thing in the morning, but, alas, she must go to work. Hermione giggled, if Madam DuMont knew about how she lingered over those "Dirty old decrepit stores", as the illustrious madam calls them, Madam DuMont would descend from the Upper Part of the store (reserved for men and their female companions) and give Hermione the lecture on decorum again. (Madam DuMont gave Hermione this lecture when she started working for her, and again when she saw Hermione pay out of pocket to help a little boy buy his momma a birthday present.)  

Hermione slipped by an elderly gentleman and she headed up the stares to _Madam DuMont's Fine Establishment. _

Madam DuMont's Store was a variety of smaller stores all under one roof. The "Establishment" had a candy store, boasting only the finest imported confectionaries, a stationary store that had handmade papers, calling cards, exotic feather quills, a popular shoe store, a hair salon, the Upper Part, some kind of shop that sells clothing, Hermione has never been allowed in, a book store specializing in erotica and romance novels that Hermione felt were very foolish (even though she was never allowed to read one), and the small store that Hermione was over, an elegant trinket and collectable counter. It opened only on Saturdays and didn't really seem Madam DuMont's style, but Hermione wasn't complaining. She loved it, all the tiny glass slippers, miniature treasure boxes, and other sweet little figurines.  Her favorite was a fat little glass blue bird. It reminded her of Ann and all her delicateness. 

Waving her wand, Hermione lit up her counter and awaited the first customer of the day. If only she knew that today someone evil, someone she finds deplorable, was going to determine her fate.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Professor Snape considered himself a reasonable man, a mature man that has seen all the world can offer, is surprised by very little. A man who experienced some of the most beautiful women god put together. He would never believe a mere girl could bring him to this level. Hell, he didn't know this level existed.

He apperated back to Hogwarts and strode to his tower, his mind on what he should do about his Hermione dilemma when his star pupil appeared before him.

"Professor, I see you have a problem," Drederik's cold eye's glinted, "I have the solution."     

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_In Professor Snape's living room:_

"Granger makes it so I can't even get a moment alone with Ann, if she belonged to you, I'm sure she'd be far too busy to remain the obstacle she is now. Ann will never become accustomed to me if I can't even have five minutes of her time."

Drederik laid out his devious plan, the professor listening in silence. 

"If you help me to obtain the object of my desire, I will clear the way for you for full all of yours." Drederik's silky voice droned on. He stood in front of the fireplace, in his hand a glass of cognac. "We'll even let the girls have supervised visitations, so no one will feel abused or neglected. This will work." 

"No. It won't work." Professor Snape sighed as he lounged on his honey leather sofa. "When I petition for her Decision Papers, I have to take a truth potion to determine if my case is based on actual happenings. It would come out that I set Hermione up and I would be fired from Hogwarts, it wouldn't matter that I owned 30% of this blasted school." 

 At that, Drederik threw a handful of powder into the fire.

"That's where I come in." Dr. Terlak, Drederik's father, said from the fireplace. "Do you comply?"

Snape looked at his hands, he had no choice. He loved Hermione, maybe if she belonged to him for even the shortest of time periods, she would return that love. 

"Yes."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/n: So what did you think? Review and let me know. Next chapter tells why Hermione fears the potion's master, and puts into motion Drederik's plot to get Hermione out of the way so he can be with Ann.


End file.
